


Show and Tell

by Akoya8



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Public Declarations, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-18
Updated: 2014-05-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 15:22:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1653359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akoya8/pseuds/Akoya8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post 6x20: Lisbon wants to have a conversation with Jane regarding his last words to her. This may result in her cornering him...in the FBI bullpen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show and Tell

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Mentalist is not mine; it belongs to the deceitful and conniving Bruno Heller. I make no profit from this work (unless you count the wish fulfillment).
> 
> Author's Note: This is my first foray into Mentalist fanfiction, so please forgive if the characters seem a little OOC. This is also the first fic I've written in several years…please be gentle with me!

_“I just want you to be happy.”_

The phrase replayed itself over and over in her mind for the rest of the night. Eating the delicious cannoli with Marcus (why did he have to be here when Jane had brought them over?) and watching a movie couldn’t drown it out, it just made it worse.

_“It’s a story about a woman who has to choose between two men.”_

Why does it have to be her choice? Why does she even have to make a choice? Jane had made it relatively clear over the years that even though he might care for her, her feeling were a secondary concern. Why had he picked now, of all times, to switch things up?

Moving to D.C. with Marcus was a tantalizingly normal prospect. She could have the white-picket fence, the dog, and maybe the 2.5 kids with Marcus. The future that she had dreamed about as a child might finally come true. But, did that dream still exist in the woman she had become?

She had been forged in the fires of circumstance, but she hadn’t been alone, Jane had burned with her. As tempting as the ideas of D.C., and Marcus, and childhood dream fulfillment were, she could not, in good conscience, leave without having a serious talk with Jane about it. For once, she wanted to lay her cards on the table without being told that it was too dangerous to show her hand. Red John was dead, Jane had immunity from prosecution, and they once again lived and worked in the same city.

So, it was high time that she talked to Jane. That would be the first difficulty to overcome; the second might be impossible: getting Jane to sit still and talk about his feelings.

* * *

 

_“I just want you to be happy.”_

He’d meant it. He’d meant every word of it. But he didn’t have the courage to say, “I want you to be happy with me,” because how could he even ask for something like that? After all the lies, the cons, the running away, how could he ask Lisbon to consider staying and being happy with him? Short answer: he couldn’t.

Lisbon deserved a good man; she deserved a man without his kind of baggage, his kind of past. Jane knew he didn’t have much to offer, but if Lisbon wanted him, she could have it all. And he desperately needed to be wanted by Lisbon. He’d spent the better part of the last decade needing Lisbon in so many ways, wanting her in so many ways. She deserved so much better, but if he had half an opportunity to show her how he felt, he’d spend the rest of their lives trying to be worthy of her.

He hoped that Lisbon would make the first move; he wasn’t sure that he would be brave enough in the face of her possible future with a good man.

* * *

 

“What did you mean, ‘I just want you to be happy?’ What does that even mean?”

They had a breather in their current case, human traffickers rarely made thing easy, and even though he had been expecting (hoping) something like this, Lisbon’s directness still caught him off guard. He’d play dumb for as long as possible until Lisbon gave up, punched him, left him (please, please don’t leave), or until he broke.

Judging by the stubborn glint in Lisbon’s eyes and the jut of her jaw, he had a feeling that he might be the one to break first, but he still had to try. “I meant what I said, I just want your happiness, Lisbon, whatever that looks like, and that’s what I want.”

That may not have been the best thing to start with; her glint had turned into a glare. “Damn it, Jane, don’t try to deflect, I need to know what you meant!”

“What do you want to hear, Lisbon?” It came out like a sigh, rather than the accusatory interrogative that he had intended, but what it did have was an unintended side effect: all of those repressed emotions, thoughts, and urges that he’d been bottling up for the past several years started to come bubbling up to the surface, ready to burst out of his mouth. Couldn’t Lisbon have waited to do this in a private location?

Jane felt slightly violated at the lack of privacy (the bullpen of the Austin FBI building was hardly the place that he wanted to do this, but his firecracker wanted his guts spilled on the floor immediately), but there was no stopping him now, “Do you want me to tell you not to go to D.C.? I already told you not to! I told you, you would be bored. You’d be bored with your job, you’d be bored with your life, and you most certainly would be bored by Special Agent Marcus Pike!”

He was breathing heavily by then, but Lisbon’s astonished, yet hopeful, expression made him press on, “And d’you know why you would be bored, do you?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “Because I won’t be there! I won’t be working with you, I won’t be making a life with you because I’ll be here, chained like a dog to Abbott’s desk wishing that I could be the one to give that picket fence, and the dog, and the 2.5 kids with blond hair and green eyes! And I want to give you those things, Teresa, because you deserve them. You deserve to be happy with a good man.”

At this point, Jane moved closer to Lisbon and finally lowered his voice; he wanted her to be the only one that heard his next words. “I am not a good man, Teresa, I’ve lied to you and I’ve left you and I’ve made you sad and angry, but you make me want to be a better man. You make me want to stay. I’ve been on the move all my life, but I want you to be my stopping place. Because I love you, I think I’ve always loved you, but I’ve never deserved you. God, I wish I did.”

He could see tears welling up in her eyes as he felt his own tears begin rolling down his face, “Damn it, Lisbon, I don’t want to make you cry; I’m tired of making you cry!” And because he looked pathetic, standing there with tears on his face, telling her not to cry, she smiled.

* * *

 

She smiled, and then she laughed.

Jane had only a moment to look confused before Lisbon threw her arms around his neck, drawing his wet face down to her own. She placed a light kiss on his lips and whispering fiercely, “Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that? Years, Jane, I’ve waited years!”

He smiled through his tears at the most glorious of women before saying, rather hoarsely, “I’ve wanted to tell you for years, but the timing was never right. And I couldn’t bear to tell you in a letter; it would have been so inadequate. I wanted this to be special, a candle-lit dinner, romantic music…”

Lisbon laughed again, “I always imagined it would be in the bullpen of the CBI: Cho and Rigsby would be exchanging money while Van Pelt would be trying not to cry.” Remembering where they were, Jane looked around at the audience that had gathered during his outburst, “I’m sorry that they all had to witness our little moment, my dear, but you can take comfort in the fact that we are in a bullpen, and Cho is exchanging money, with Agent Abbott, actually. Oh my, that is slightly embarrassing.”

He felt Lisbon stiffen at the mention of her boss, and he felt her muscles tighten further at what he was sure were thoughts of Pike finding out about this little scene. She could be unbearably noble sometimes. “Go ahead and run, Lisbon, I’ll distract them.”

Lisbon buried her face in Jane’s chest, shaking her head before pulling away, “No, we’ll face them how we’re meant to face them: together. I’ll tell Marcus later, in private. I’m sorry that he’ll hear about this, but I was afraid that you would run if I tried to corner you in private. Stupid, I know.” Jane smiled and wiped her tears away with his thumbs, knowing that his next statement would probably break up their happy little moment, “You can make it up to me later.”

Lisbon thumped him on the arm, “If anyone is going to be making something up, it’s going to be you, Jane! I’ve got years’ worth of grievances that I didn’t bother filing with the CBI!” Jane made a face, clutching his wounded limb. He saw Abbott slipping Cho more money out of the corner of his eye.

He stopped pouting for a moment to give a bright little smile to Lisbon, “Never fear, Lisbon, I’m sure you’ll be able to get redress from me, especially if you bring those handcuffs you always threaten me with!”

Lisbon huffed and hit him again before stalking off through the slowly dispersing crowd. Jane called after her, “Don’t worry, dear, we’ll talk about it over dinner tonight!”

Eventually, Abbott wandered over to him, looking rather smug for a man who had just lost some money (and, knowing Cho, it was probably a great deal of money). “I presume that this will not be an everyday occurrence, Jane?” Jane shook his uncertainly before replying gravely, “No sir, just holidays, and birthdays, and days that Lisbon is feeling bad, and Fridays, and definitely Mondays because those are terrible, and―” Abbott had finally walked away, shaking his head in irritation.

Jane looked a bit put out, “But he didn’t even let me get to the part about special Wednesdays.” He walked over to his couch and flopped down in resignation. Authority figures were absolute killjoys, except for Lisbon. The thought of Lisbon had Jane smiling again. Starting today, he would have a life lived with Lisbon to look forward to. Maybe he should consider a policy of being more open about his feelings… _How delicious you look today, Lisbon, I feel that we should play hooky_ …or, _“Good morning, Teresa, I feel that your shirt would look rather nice on the floor._ Yes, he could see the benefits of that. When Jane finally fell asleep, he was still smiling.


End file.
